


you've got to breathe

by rems



Series: fairmount [4]
Category: Everyman HYBRID
Genre: Fairmount Kids - Freeform, The Mining Town Four - Freeform, evan has a panic attack: the fic, i just didnt kno if it warrented the actual warning? is its going here, theres violence at the beginning and a lil in the middle btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 18:31:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14384547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rems/pseuds/rems
Summary: People pour in and it's all loud and there's so many people, and he's still covered in blood and he's having a break down here on the floor, hands restrained in front of him as the staff take care of his problem, ignoring his sobs.





	you've got to breathe

His face is stretched wide in a grin as the nurse looks up at him, eyes wide in fear. She was new, fairly young, probably only 20 or so. Her stomach is bleeding, and he's stabbed her so many times with the flimsy plastic fork that he can see her insides too, everything still moving and pulsing as they do their job. Sticks a hand in and grabs her intestines in both hands, feeling them, just holding it in his hands, studying. The woman jerks and keeps her eyes on him, wide with shock at how such a small boy could do this so quickly. He plays around with her organs for a few more minutes, being careful to keep her alive as he does. Then he takes the fork and lifts the shredded skin near her ribcage, spotting her heart, beating furiously and pushing out wave after wave of blood onto his jeans. He reaches in with the fork, poking at the organ and humming a song happily. She makes a little squeak when he does, which is funny, she hasn't made much noise during this proccess. Oh well. He then stabs the fork in deep, leaving it protruding from under her ribs as he sits back where he's straddled her legs, watching as she convulses and then goes limp, giving a few weak twitches before going still completely.

He laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs, relishing the harsh sent of iron and the slick feeling of blood on his hands and up his arms. Evan watches and feels all of this as if from 10 feet back. His eyes are hot like he's crying, but there are no tears. It wont let him. He licks at the blood on his fingers and Evan wants to vomit.

There's a gasp from the doorway and Evan is suddenly thrust back into his body, the scent hitting him first, and he gags, throwing up in his mouth at the taste of iron on his tongue before looking to see who is at the door. It's some doctor he doesn't recognize. Everythings a blur as Evan is roughly grabbed by the back of his shirt and lifted off of the poor nurse and then shoved into a big security man's arms and restrained. People pour in and it's all loud and there's so many people, and he's still covered in blood and he's having a break down here on the floor, hands restrained in front of him as the staff take care of his problem, ignoring his sobs. 

He can smell and taste iron and he's looking at the woman's blonde hair spilling onto the floor, mixed in with the pool of blood beneath her, the rest of her face obscured, and suddenly he sees his family's kitchen again. He already recognizes the scene as he spots himself, sitting at the dining room table as his mother washes the dishes. She's shouting at him about something, maybe he didn't eat his veggies today, or he made too much noise while scooting his chair closer to the table, it doesn't matter; she's shouting at him. He watches as past-Evan stands noisily from the table and walks over near her, climbing up onto the counter as she continues to shout at him. She raises her hand and slaps him, hard, across the face, now-Evan feeling the sharp sting. Past-Evan grins at her and then grabs the largest knife in the butchers block.

Now-Evan can feel everything as he kills her, the warm blood, the slick flesh, and he sobs loudly, shaking where he's seated against the wall still, hands cuffed, sounds from this scene and the one in the real room blurring together into loud white noise. Suddenly his arm is grabbed tightly, but by something he can't see, and he clams up, only now noticing that his throat is sore. He must have been screaming. He shuts his mouth firmly, instinctively tensing up for the slap that comes from making noise.

He can still feel his hands moving in something slick and warm, his mother's body, presumably, though his vision has tunneled too much to see anything. The grip on his arm is removed and he hears more shouting, but it sounds familiar and his body relaxes, even though he still doesn't know who it is. The person gently takes his hands in their own, the dual-sensations of his hallucination and real world feelings conflicting and blurring. The cuffs are removed and thumbs are brushed gently over the torn up skin where they had been. Evan can hear the person talking, but it sounds like he's underwater, he can't hear anything. Then he feels one arm around his back and the other under his knees, and he's gently lifted into someone's arms and walked out of the room.

The noise quiets and Evan leans into the person's chest. He feels safe here, and he tries focusing on the person's heartbeat, attempting to match his own breathing with their's. He's set down on a bench and two large hands settle on either side of his face, holding him gently, wiping some of his tears away. The person speaks again, but he still can't see, and he can't hear, so he just shakes his head desperately. The person keeps speaking, repeating something? Evan focuses on it for a minute, closing his eyes and gripping the person's sleeve tightly.

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five." Evan must have shown some response to being able to understand the words, because the person says, "Yes, good job Evan, now can you say that with me?" He shakes his head frantically, holding in the small terrified noise coming from the back of his throat. Good boys don't make noise. Good boys stay quiet. Noise is bad, and bad boys get punished, they get hit, or worse. "Evan, I need you to count with me, it will help." Evan shakes his head again and tugs desperately on the person's sleeves. "Why wont you speak?" Evan thinks for a moment and then points to his mouth. "Speaking?" Evan nods. Then he gives a thumbs down. "Bad?" Evan nods. "Speaking is bad?" Evan nods again, and then makes a fist and growls. Then he points to his mouth again, gives a thumbs down, then makes a fist and growls. "Speaking is bad, makes someone angry?" Evan nods frantically. "I wont be upset with you if you speak, I want you to actually. Will you talk to me, Evan? It will help you stop panicing." Evan thinks and then nods slowly. He wants to stop feeling like he's free falling.

"O-one," Evan stutters out through his ripped-up throat.

"One, that's right, that's good, yes. Two," he says and Evan echoes him.

"Thr-ree. F- fo-our. Fi-iv-ve," Evan gasps out, still having trouble breathing.

"Breathe, Evan, you've got to breathe," the man says, putting a hand on Evan's chest. "Breathe so that you move my hand. Deep, deep breaths. Big breaths, come on now." Evan inhales for as long as he can, exhaling with a cough and sucking a lungful of air. "There you go." He feels like his ribs are compressing his lungs, trapping them so that they can only fill up half way, leaving him gasping for more air. He panics further, his chest squeezing more, and the man presses his chest again. "Big breath, again for me Evan, big breath, you can do it." Evan tries again and fills his lungs fully, exhaling heavily and sucking in another breath. He sits and just breathes for a moment, his vision clearing up finally.

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Evan?" Corenthal asks gently, moving his hand from Evan's breastbone to his head, smoothing down a piece of his hair.

"Oh, nothing, I just. Didn't know it was you." Corenthal chuckles lightly and then sighs as he stands.

"Now, let's go get you cleaned up, mm?" Evan nods again and sniffles, and the doctor leads him father down the hall and into a bathroom, closing and locking the door behind them. He turns and lifts Evan into his arms, sitting him on the sink counter and turning on the water, grabbing paper towels and wetting them. "It's alright," he says, taking one of Evan's hands in his own and beginning to clean the blood off of him. Evan sniffles and wipes his face on his own shoulder.

"I didn't do it," he says quietly. Corenthal mmm's and tosses the paper towel into the trashcan, picking up another one and cleaning off the boy's tiny hand. "I didn't."

Corenthal looks up at him then, and he can tell that Evan isn't lying. "I believe you," he says. Evan sighs in relief and nods. "Can you walk me through what happened, Evan?"

"She came into my room with the food, set it down in front of me, and it was normal. And then, suddenly, it was like... Like I was pulled out of my body, watching everything happen or. Mm. Like um, when you wear a glove, and you can feel things but there's something between you and the actual thing so it feels weird? Like that, but with everything, like seeing and smell and all of that."

"Sound's like dissociation a bit," Corenthal muses to himself.

He pauses and swings his legs where they dangle over the edge, biting his lip. "Do I. Have to describe this next part?" he asks quietly. He can still taste her blood in his mouth.

"No, that's alright. Just tell me the feelings, what was going on in there," he gently pokes at Evan's forehead with an encouraging smile.

"My head was weird too, my ears were ringing but with the ringing was also like, laughing? And everything kinda looked purple, it was weird."

"Huh," Corenthal says. He doesn't know why that would happen. "What about this laughing, what was it like?"

"Scary. It was like.. like it was making fun of me?" Corenthal hums. "And once someone came in, it was like I was yanked back into my body, and then everything was overwhelming and I had a flashback and a panic attack and now we're here."

"Alright. Thank you for telling me, Evan." He finishes cleaning the blood off of him. "Let's go get you changed into some clean clothes, yeah?" Evan nods and Corenthal lifts him into his arms again, walking them down the hall and to a storage closet. He grabs a clean shirt and a pain of jeans that might fit him and walks them back down to the bathroom. He hands the clothes to Evan- "Be careful not to get them dirty-" and the boy walks into one of the stalls and gets changed.

The jeans fit him fine, but the shirt is much too big, almost slipping completely off of one shoulder and the sleeves reaching past his elbows, the hem of the shirt at his knees.

"Um," Evan says, holding out his arms and letting them fall back to his sides. "Big."

"Alright, come here." Corenthal kneels and bunches up the boys shirt by his hip, knotting the end to keep it up, and he cuffs the sleeves to make them shorter. "Better?" Evan nods and Corenthal stands. "Why don't you come with me to my office, I have to fill out a report on this, so I want to be able to make sure what I say happened, okay?" Evan nods again and takes his hand, and the doctor leads them back down the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic aka i had a big big panic attack and comforted myself by projecting onto evan, My One Talent


End file.
